


join us in the shadows

by Y_ellow



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fic or Treat, Gen, Peter is underage here so nothing more than tentative friendship, but author has plans for a sequel, lots of behind the scene stuff sorry, spooder Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 23:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21261134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Y_ellow/pseuds/Y_ellow
Summary: Prompt #26: very spidery Peter not having to hide because it’s Halloween and everyone thinks his multiple eyes and fuzzy legs are a costume.Written for fic-or-treat exchange over on the Spideypool discord.





	join us in the shadows

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be the +1 to a 5+1 but the rest is not finished. So. Have the Wade part. Endgame did not happen, and Peter is based on a jumping spider. I really wanted to have this posted on Halloween so it’s pretty rushed. I’ll definitely be edition it in coming days, tenses are probably off. End is abrupt but it’s technically 30min into November where I am so heeeeeereeeee
> 
> Hopefully you enjoy it thought!

October 31st. All Hallows Eve. Halloween.  
  
All Peter wanted was to spend the night handing out candy with Aunt May, and to watch some bad horror movies with Ned while eating their body weight in leftover candy.  
  
But instead, Aunt May had to pick up an extra shift at the hospital, and Ned caught a bad flue, leaving him bedridden. After promising to save him some candy for a make-up movie night, Peter was left with nothing to do on Halloween. Trick-or-treating or handing out candy wouldn’t be very fun alone.  
  
Thankfully (or not), Aunt May wasn’t above contacting Mister Stark directly, to get Peter an invitation to the yearly Stark Monster Bash. Tony was all too happy to oblige, after a stern reminder that Peter wouldn’t be able to legally drink for another four years.  
  
Just last year, when Peter was still getting used to being Spiderman and desperate for attention from the superhero community, he would have been thrilled to get an invitation (no matter how he got it!), but now… Now his senses are going haywire, and his anxiety about his appearance is back full force. Any confidence he gained from being Out to Aunt May, Ned and the Avengers is gone.  
  
It wouldn’t be that bad if he were at least still wearing his Spiderman costume. Over the past few months, as his body began to change and became more arachnid in appearance, people had just assumed that it was a natural evolution of his suit design. From baggy sweatpants and hoodie with a patchwork mask, to slick looking spandex, to his current iteration.  
  
The overall look is still the same, red-and-blue spandex with black spider web patterns. Only now he also has four extra spider like limbs extending from his lower ribs, covered in dark brown fur. He’s been told he should be thankful that the colour scheme doesn’t clash with his costume. Thankfully, the suit hides all his other mutations. His webslingers sit right below the two sets of spinnerets on his inner wrists, keeping them exposed if he needs them but ignorable. The same fuzz that covers his spider-limbs extends over most of his body, beneath which his skin now resembles an exoskeleton. It feels stiff and rougher than regular skin.  
  
Unfortunately for Peter’s sense of well-being and confidence, one of the few rules of the evening is that no one is allowed to wear their own costume. Facial coverings are allowed, when secrete identities are at stake, and wearing another supers costume is fair game. The other dress rule is that costumes are mandatory. There’s even supposed to be a competition for best and worst costume, to motivate the supers.  
  
Peter can’t exactly hide what he is, even with a full body suit, so that ruled out pretty much every conventional costume he could think of. He had less than a day to put everything together, which limited him further. Tony’s suggestion was the simplest in the end, even if a big part of him regrets it now.  
  
Go as himself, extra limbs and fuzz on full display, but add a few fake bits that could come off if anyone looked too closely.  
  
Tony helped design a mask that would blend in with the rest of his skin, while giving him the additional six spider eyes he thankfully doesn’t actually have. The mask curves down around his mouth, mimicking a set of large mandibles, and making him more difficult to recognize. The mask covers his entire upper face, leaving just his mouth and nose exposed so that he can eat without being hampered. He’s wearing a pair of dark skinny jeans and a black shirt with slits cut out to let his spider-limbs move freely. His arms are bare, showing off the fuzzy hairs that now cover most of his body.  
  
Between the mask and his mutations, he looks especially spider-like.  
  
He unwittingly behaves the part too. Someone in a werewolf costume brushed up against him mere moments after he arrives, sending tingles of information (male, elevated body temperature, movement) up his spine. Without conscious though, Peter finds himself halfway to the ceiling, swinging up from a thread. It’s second nature to stick to the ceiling by his finger and toes, overlooking the crowd of supers.  
  
People definitely notice him then, and boo at him good naturally for being obvious about his identity as Spiderman, and for supposedly wearing a part of his suit. Jokes on them though, the webs and spinnerets are a part of his body now!  
  
Peter is man enough to admit that while swinging up to the ceiling was reflex, staying there is pure cowardice. Coming in was one things, when he still though this might be fun, but now that he’s here all he can focus on is the barrage of information coming in from everywhere, from air temperatures to currents to various conversation.  
  
Someone of the costumes are actually really funny though, and he has the best view possible from up here. Guessing who is who would actually be pretty fun, if Peter wasn’t so busy freaking out. Being up on the ceiling is great as far as staying out of the way goes, and it gives him a great view of the crowd, but it also makes him more visible. All anyone needs to do is look up.  
  
Yeah, Peter sure is regretting letting Tony talk him into doing this. He’s lazy enough that being his own costume was appealing, but the more he thinks about it, the easier it gets to pictures someone looking at him and going ‘hey isn’t that too life like to be a costume? Ahhhh it’s a monster, run!’  
  
Peter likes watching bad horror movies, not starring in them, thanks.  
  
“Are you going to spend all night up there kiddo?” Tony’s voice cuts up through the din, just as Peter is debating whether or not he can sneak out the window without anyone spotting him.  
  
Peter takes a deep breath and forces himself to detach from the ceiling, landing softly beside a frowning Tony.  
  
“You’re looking a bit freaked out. You know you don’t need to be here if you don’t want to, no matter what your aunt says, yeah? But no one is going to know unless you tell them, and no one here will care either way.”  
  
Peter is feeling pretty green actually, maybe he should have disguised himself as the Green Goblin, like Ned suggested. But the Green Goblin would have looked pretty stupid with four spider-limbs, and spandex hides no sins, especially not additional limbs. Maybe he could have dressed up as a hobo instead?  
  
Pulling himself away from his scattered thoughts, Peter forces himself to narrow his focus on Tony. The man smells of cologne, and a bunch of stuff Peter hasn’t catalogued yet.  
  
“No, I wanted to come.” Peter finally say, “I know it doesn’t matter. It’s just a lot, you know? I didn’t even mean to end up on the ceiling….” he adds, with a self-deprecating laugh, fingers nervously tugging at his mask.  
  
“Yeah, I get it kid. Why don’t you come hang out with us for a bit? Thor just challenged Vision to an arm wrestling match. We’re starting a betting pool on how long he lasts. Personally, I give him less than ten seconds.”  
  
Tony settles a comforting arm around Peter’s shoulder, directing him towards the back of the room were Thor and Vision seem to be trash talking each other with their arms linked together and elbows planted firmly on the bar.  
  
(Spoiler alert, Thor loses and needs to be cheered up by someone dressed as Maleficent who Peter is pretty sure is Loki, even though the figure is definitely feminine).  
  
It’s easier to relax after that, and Tony is nice enough to make sure that Peter is never alone. There’s always at least one other person in the know around him, ready to distract him whenever he gets too over stimulated or anxious.  
  
He gets a lot of compliments for his ‘costume’ which is actually pretty funny after it stops being nerve wracking. He works up the nerve to start answering with a “thanks, I grew it myself!”  
  
Eventually though, the party does start to deteriorate as consumption starts catching up to even the highest metabolisms. Valkyrie looks to have shared some of her space-booze with Dr. Banner, and the two of them are giggling into the remains of a bottle.  
  
Someone starts a brawl, though Peter doesn’t see who. Three bets on it being whoever dared the Human Torch to pet Wolverine’s sideburns, and the first two don’t count. Somewhere, it’s hard to be anxious about his mutation watching all these impressive and powerful people making asses of themselves. Peter is comfortably perched on the back of a chair, watching the whole thing unfold, when he spots Deadpool.  
  
The usual red and black suit is absence, replaced by a tight fitting black shirt, cargo pants and black military boots. The scars are a dead giveaway, on full display without the usual barriers of leather and humour. His twin katanas are strapped to his back, though Peter can’t see any of other assorted weapons Deadpool is known to carry.  
  
Peter cocks his head, contemplative. He doesn’t know the mercenary that well, mainly just has what Tony and the others have said to go off of. Words like ‘insane’ and ‘killer’ where used in abundance.  
  
But they have teamed up a few times, and in those times Deadpool has proven useful. And snarky. More so than Peter, even. The other Avengers still can’t stand Peter talking during fights, making that a pretty noteworthy trait. They’ve hung out on rooftops a few times, and Deadpool has even supplied tacos on several occasions.  
  
Between fights where Deadpools suit gets shredded, and their rooftop tacos, Peter has only ever seen slivers of skin, and the bottom half of his face. If there’s one thing Peter does know about the man, other than his love of all things Mexican, it’s that he hates people seeing his skin.  
  
Maybe it’s the setting, Peter still off-kilter from his earlier anxiety, still not feeling like he belongs. Maybe it’s concern for what might happen, if someone sets Deadpool off, with most everyone else in various stages of inebriation. Whatever it is, something pushes him away from his perch, and pulls him towards Deadpool.  
  
“What are you doing here Deadpool? I though Tony banned you from the Tower after last time you broke in and made Dr. Banner Hulk-out?”  
  
“Whoa, webs, is that you? Cours it is, who else would be talking to us. And he remembers last time we visited! I’m really digging the costume, webs! Did Iron Princess help you design it? You look so fluffy! Can I pet you? No, stupid, of course we can’t pet him, that would require us to actually touch him and then he’d probably puke. We’re both usually way more covered if we touch!”  
  
Peter patiently waits for the merc to finish his one-sided conversation. Prolonged exposure to Deadpool has thought him that the quickest way to get an answer is to wait him out. His patience is rewarded when the merc finally turns fully towards Peter, a grin on his scared face.  
  
“It was pretty easy, I’m in-co-gni-to, baby boy!”  
  
Peter snorts, mouth quirking upwards in a smile. “Hate to break it to you DP, but Tony definitely knows everyone that sets foot in his tower. Besides, you still sound and look like yourself. What are you even dressed up as?”  
  
“I’m a zombie!” he proclaims proudly, arms raised straight ahead in a parody of a zombie shuffle, “Gotta take advantage of this rocking bod the one day of the year it’s socially appropriate to look like the stuff of nightmares, ya know? Most people just assume its prosthetics.”  
  
“Oh cool. That’s the logic behind tonight for me too.” Peter freezes as soon as the words leave his mouth. Without the mask in the way, he can clearly see Deadpool’s eyes open wide in shock, as that bit of information sinks in.  
  
“Oh shit. For real baby boy? I always thought that was part of your suit.”  
  
“No. Please don’t say anything? Tony knows obviously, and so do the other Avengers, and I’m pretty sure Daredevil knows because he knows everything, but that’s about it, and I was pretty freaked out about heh coming out like this tonight so just-“  
  
“Woah there baby boy. I’m gonna stop you there, though I am loving the word vomit. This wade-pool isn’t gonna tell anybody nothing about you that you don’t want them knowing. Promise of a lifetime.” He makes a little cross sign over his heart, teeth bared in a grin.  
  
“You can touch my skin if you still want to.” Peter says after a beat, offering the merc his arm, with a small smile. “As thanks for not blowing my cover.”  
  
The touch is tentative when it comes, more delicate than he might have expected from a mercenary. Having someone else touch the sensitive hairs along his arm sends shudders up his spine, but Peter tenses his muscles to prevent himself from jumping up to the ceiling again. He doesn’t want Deadpool to think that it’s because of his own scars, rather than something to do with Peter.  
  
“Is it just me or did it just get really hot in here.” Deadpool says, fanning his face exaggeratedly with one hand, afterwards. “Ohhh, does it go all the way down? Is your dick furry too? Do you have pedipalps down there, like actual male spiders?”  
  
“Gross, no! Don’t be such a monsterfucker, DP.”  
  
“Does it still count as monsterfucking if it’s two monsters fucking? Isn’t it just regular fucking at that point?”  
  
“There will be no fucking, Deadpool.”

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism welcome, I haven’t written anything in years.


End file.
